CHAPTER 10 THE HELP
We had been staring at screens for two days straight, and it felt like we were drowning in data. Brian's fingers, usually a blur, now moved in slow, tired taps.
"I can't do this anymore," he said at last, pushing his laptop away with both hands. The dark circles under his red eyes made him look like he'd been punched. "Do you know how many drone photographers are on Likecosm? Thousands. And that's just the Scottish ones. What if our next victim is some English bloke on holiday? Or Irish? Welsh?" He ran his hands down his face. "For all we know, a busload of German tourists with drones could be heading for Glencoe right now."
"And the Americans," I pointed out.
Brian's head snapped up. "Jo, this isn't helping."
"Sorry," I sighed, closing my laptop. My eyes felt grit
